


Commence Self-Destruct Sequence

by KatSquared



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Darwin is Alive, M/M, Mental Health Issues, No Beach Divorce (X-Men), Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29114409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatSquared/pseuds/KatSquared
Summary: He looked at Charles again, and the man no longer appeared sickly. He now looked like the Charles that Erik knew: his cheeks were full of life and the dark circles under his eyes were nowhere to be seen. He examined Charles’ face.“What? Is it bruising?” Charles asked, a sliver of panic in his voice.Erik mentally recounted the times he had seen Charles asleep, but could not recall any instance in the recent months.He then realized what was happening.-OR: In which Erik realizes that Charles’ tendency to put others before himself isn’t entirely for loving reasons.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	Commence Self-Destruct Sequence

The thing that most people, including those who were close to him, falsely believed about Charles Xavier is that his savior complex is all that drove him to help these people at the risk of his own wellbeing. They thought that he got off on feeling like a hero, and perhaps, there is some truth to that; Charles did try to please everyone, and it is from that silly need to please, that he bore the stupid belief that mutants were the ones who had to be responsible in making baselines comfortable around them. 

Erik detested this part of Charles. It is what almost tore their relationship apart, never mind that Erik’s stubbornness might also be a factor in that. He would never admit it. At the same time, however, this was also one of Charles’ best qualities, especially when it was directed at them, not at stupid baselines.

Whenever someone in the mansion needed help, they’d go straight to Charles. The man always listened, and he only gave advice if you asked. Though given the fact it was always something about taking the high road, they rarely asked for it. 

You’d think that being the mansion’s emotional support person would be a hard cross to carry, but Charles takes it in stride. He manages to lift up everyone’s spirits, even in the face of the government’s impending hunt for mutants.

After Erik’s brief stunt with missiles in Cuba before dropping them in the ocean and hastily asking Azazel to teleport them to Westchester following Charles’ collapseーapparently, even a mental coin-to-the-skull will do that to you, mutants did not look too good in the government’s eyes.

“I dropped the missiles! What the hell are they mad aboutーus saving them from Shaw?” Erik complained, once Charles explained that they might have to go into hiding.

“Maybe it’s the fact you tried to kill them at all, dear.” Charles retorted.

They all stayed at the mansion, even Azazel and Janos, since it was just safer. Plus, they needed the extra protection after Erik and the others decided to break Emma Frost out of the CIA’s hold. They still left on occasion, though, sinceーas you can expectーthe government wasn’t very good at their job in mutant hunting, anyway.

“Erik, do you want the government to hate us?” Charles asked, exasperated when Emma appeared on the doorstep of the Xavier household.

“Yes.” 

Needless to say, the mansion was full of people. All of which had grown fond of Charles, even Emma spoke to Charles about her occasional woes with telepathy.

What struck Erik as odd, was that Charles’ light never dwindled. The man had a seemingly endless supply of gentleness that he shared with everyone in the house. He even shared it with Raven, who he frequently bickered with, whenever she complained. Even at night, Erik always fell asleep first, his eyes would usually shut looking over at his side, where Charles would be reading or writing.

Perhaps that was just the beauty of Charles. He was a rare juxtaposition from the home he grew up in. Maybe the man had a secondary mutation and he was solar powered, and that was how he came to be the personification of sunshine.

This perfect image of Charles shattered one day. Erik had said he was going to go out for a jog, but returned early because the soles of his running shoes came right off halfway throughーtraining with Hank, which was basically the equivalent of training with a fucking wild animal, had worn them out.

When he entered their bedroom, he saw Charles napping. His sleep seemed peaceful enough, but as Erik looked more closely, he noticed that Charle’s features looked different: he had deep bruises under his eyes and slightly-sunken cheeks, as though he hadn’t slept on eaten in a while. His skin looked frighteningly pale, and on his arms were tiny little crescents connected to hands with chewed-off nails. He looked unwell.

Erik was confused. Charles looked fine before he left, he even bid Erik a safe run with a kiss on the cheek! The man he was looking at was different. 

His first instinct was to look around the room. Maybe there was a new mutant who sucked the life out of Charles and made him look this way, maybe Emma was projecting this in his mind for another classic watch-Erik-freak-out prank. However, as there was no sign of another person’s presence, he began to worry and he peered over Charles’ resting form, examining it for any signs as to what may have caused him to look so unwell. Perhaps his worried mind was too loud, since Charles’ eye’s suddenly opened, as he sprang awake.

Since Erik was examining him closely, his sudden awakening caused their heads to bump together. Both men held their heads in pain, as Erik staggered backwards from the bed. 

“What the hell, Erik?” Charles cried, massaging his forehead.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that you lookedー” he paused the cradling of his soon-to-be-bruised nose to look at his boyfriend, before stopping what he was about to say.

He looked at Charles again, and the man no longer appeared sickly. He now looked like the Charles that Erik knew: his cheeks were full of life and the dark circles under his eyes were nowhere to be seen. He examined Charles’ face. 

“What? Is it bruising?” Charles asked, a sliver of panic in his voice.

Erik mentally recounted the times he had seen Charles asleep, but could not recall any instance in the recent months.

He then realized what was happening.

“You’re projecting.” Erik accused.

“Erik, Iー”

“You’ve been projecting this whole time. That’s why you always wait for me to fall asleep first, and that’s why you keep a faint connection in my mind when we sleepーso you wake up when I wake up. You’re making yourself appear healthy, when really, you look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks. I feel the love, darling.”

“What the fuck, Charles?”

Charles sighed, ready to explain, and Erik already knew some bullshit about the good of the group was on his mind.

“I’m sorry. I just, at some point during the year, I got really preoccupied with everything that’s been happening, and I forgot to eat a few meals and missed a few hours of sleep. I didn’t want anyone to worry, so I simply projected a slightly-healthier version of me.”

“So you lied to us.”

“Yes, but it was for the good of the group. I didn’t want anyone to worry.”

There it was. Charles Xavier was once again becoming a slave to his savior complex. Erik scoffed in annoyance.

“Charles, get off it. You can’t possibly help everyone if you don’t help yourself. And please, stop projecting your stupid perfect face, I already know the truth. How long has this been going on?”

“A few months. I tried to stop, but it just became easier to do this. It’s fine, it takes less than one percent of my focus.” Charles replied, no longer projecting.

“No, it isn’t fucking fine. You’re prioritizing everyone but yourself, and you’re using your telepathy to prevent us from helping you. You always do this, Charles. Stop being so self-sacrificing.”

Charles looked at Erik, clearly this conversation was causing him a great deal of distress. His mouth kept opening and closing as he decided on what he wanted to say.

“Okay, Erik. I’ll try.” He smiled. 

Erik didn’t trust him to try. People liked to believe that Erik was the stubborn one, but goddamn it, his boyfriend was equally stubborn.

“We’ll have meals together, and I’ll make sure you eat. I’ll also see to it you fall asleep before I do.”

“What the fuck, Erik?” Charles yelled, raising his voice the first time since the argument began. “I’m not a fucking child who needs to be supervised. I know how to take care of myself.”

“Clearly, you don’t. You just admitted to forgetting to  _ eat _ .”

Charles tried to regain his composure, but his patience was dwindling quickly.

“Perhaps I misspoke. I know how to eat, I’m just not hungry when I’m focused on other things.”

“Charles, I’m not changing my mind.”

Charles was angry now, and as much as Erik would’ve loved to tease him for acting like a petulant child, he knew that his boyfriend was seriously upset about this. He didn’t want to be a dick, lest Charles feel justified in his anger at Erik when he was so clearly in the wrong.

Erik sat down on the bed, next to Charles, and pulled him close.

“I just want you to take care of yourself.”

“Well I don’t want to!” Charles retorted grumpily.

“What?”

Erik pulled back from Charles, and stared at him with his hand on Charles’ shoulders. His anger had dissipated. Maybe this wasn’t solely on Charles’ frustrating need to please. Charles looked away.

“You don’t want to take care of yourself?” Erik asked, confused.

Charles kept quiet, still avoiding eye-contact. Erik noticed movement on the corner of his eye, and he looked down to see Charles digging his nails into his arm. Erik released his hold on Charles’ shoulders and grabbed his hands. Startled, Charles’ finally looked at his boyfriend.

“Charles, are you okay?”

It was like Erik had taken a hammer to Charles’ already-fragile composure because his eyes welled up with tears, his breathing became faster, and he swallowed visibly.

“I’m sorry. Erik, I’m so sorry. I promise you, I tried. I wanted to get back to the way things were, but I couldn’t. Every time I had to eat, I had to sleep, I had to take care of myself, I felt like I didn’t deserve it. I wanted to punish myself.” Charles said, his voice thick with tears.

Erik dropped his hands and pulled him close, until Charles’ head rested on Erik’s shoulder.

He took a deep breath and continued, “But I knew no one would trust their problems with me if I looked so unkempt, and I needed that. I needed them to need me, I needed you to need me. I certainly did not see the need in my existence unless I had some use, so I kept telling myself, ‘They need you to be here.’ 

“But sometimes, I’m afraid I just use you all as an excuse. I can easily say that I was too busy listening to Alex’s struggles with his family, or Armando’s confusion with dying and then coming back to life, or whatever else you confide to me. I can say I was too busy doing that to eat or to sleep, but in reality, I just  _ hate _ myself too much to take care of me. And it’s so fucking idiotic that I have to justify  _ to myself _ why I’m treating me like shit.”

Erik tried to mask his shock, but hearing Charles admit such a thing made him do a double-take. Charles’ advice, as pacifistic as it was, always included an element of  _ doing-what’s-best-for-you _ . How, then, could he speak to himself with so much hate? However Charles was too caught up in his confession to notice.

“Why?” Erik asked.

“I don’t know. Truthfully, I never really loved myself,” Charles started, and Erik recalled when Charles told him that, when his telepathy first manifested, he’d always hear his mother admit to not loving him in her mind whilst wishing him good night. “But it’s only as of late, did the self-hatred kick in. I just, I feel so much anger towards myself. And anytime I feel proud of myself or even pity for myself, the anger comes back so strong, telling me I don’t deserve to feel that wayーthat I haven’t done enough to feel happiness, that I’m an ass for having a pity party. I ruined my own self-image to the point that I can’t even bear to  _ think _ about myself. Do you know how difficult that is? To be unable to think about your own existence without feeling unhappy?”

Erik didn’t answer. As much as he went through, he never hated himself quite so strongly or so lengthily as Charles did. For the longest time, Erik hadn’t cared whether he lived or died, so long as Shaw was killed. However, that was more of apathy to his existence rather than self-hatred. Charles wasn’t looking for an answer, anyway, so he just looked down at his lap.

Erik wanted to ask if he was lacking in his love, if the rest of them failed to show Charles his importance beyond his contributions to the betterment of their lives. Had they shown Charles, maybe he wouldn’t attach his self-worth on their dependence to his listening ear. However, Erik kept his mouth shut. There was no sense in making Charles feel guilty, as though he wasn’t appreciative of the relationships he’d built with them. Nor did Erik want Charles to take the opportunity to turn this into a moment where  _ he  _ would reassure Erik instead and sweep this problem under the rug.

Charles laid back on the bed, spread eagle. He sighed, casting his eyes on Erik.

“I wish I didn’t feel this way.”

Erik fell back beside him, and hooked his leg over Charles and placed his hands on his face, wiping away his tears. He didn’t know how to help Charles. Prior to this, Erik would’ve gladly murdered anyone who dared to hate Charles. How the hell was he supposed to do that when Charles hated Charles?

“I wish you didn’t either.” was all he said.

Erik secretly resolved to take better care of Charles. He wanted to help him until he could take care of himself again. Perhaps he was being foolishly optimistic, but he knew Charles would get better. Ironically enough, it was Charles who gave him that hopeーErik’s dreary outlook on life changed drastically since they met. He could only hope that he could do the same for Charles. Maybe he wasn’t so good at keeping his thoughts to himself, since Charles kissed him.

“Thank you.” he said, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

The thing that most people, including those who were close to him, falsely believed about Charles Xavier is that his savior complex is all that drove him to help these people at the risk of his own wellbeing. They thought that he got off on feeling like a hero, and perhaps, there is some truth to that. However, what they had mistaken as a self-sacrificing nature was actually an addiction to self-destruction.

**Author's Note:**

> hello, this is my first time writing actual angst so tell me if i did it right lol. please don't hesitate to tell me if anything is problematic or if there are any typos.
> 
> let's be friends on twitter (@SquaredKat)


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